.Seven Days.

 

There was no warning.

Well, that wasn't strictly true; everyone who was anybody knew.

The important, the elite. Those who were 'supposed' to survive.

All the big men; the president in his large, well protected offices, to the generals of the air force, army and navy, and the aides that sat at his right hand.

They knew, they had to have known.

They were the ones that did this to the world.

The only comfort that I have now is the hope that they died screaming in agony at the tops of their voices, begging and sobbing for their lives while the jaws of destiny descended towards their throats.

I bet that, whoever you are, are wondering how anyone could be so jaded, so filled with…hate…for his fellow man. How after everything that has happened, in a time where every living breathing soul is now precious, could I wish such grief.

Well, let me tell you dear reader, I wasn't always this…cynical.

Unfortunately people, like the times we find ourselves in, change. I am aware that the world has moved on, maybe for the worst, but it has definitely moved on.

If you have found these pages then, I can only assume that you, like myself, are a survivor.

There is however another alternative; that there is actually no-one reading this my last words. That the world is in fact dead and gone, or worse; dead and rotting, and that I am talking to myself.

Oh well, as they say….

Shit happens.

From where I sit I can see the skyline of the once majestic city just the other side of my window. The sun is shining and there isn't a cloud in the sky. The tops of the huge elms and oak trees are swaying gently in the breeze that accompanies many a summer day.

A picture-perfect day in the huge metropolis.

All of that not worth a damn when you actually look down.

I don't know haw many of them are down there now, in the allies and abandoned buildings, in all the places where man used to rule.

For all I know the entire city is infected, in which case there are millions of 'them'.

In the last few days I have only come across one other living, breathing soul, but more about that later on. There are other things that I need to say.

Before I go on maybe I should introduce myself…give you some idea of what I am like….what I was like before the world went to shit, before all this started.

My name was, still is, Andrew Edwards, formally of London England, currently residing in the rotten apple in the good old USA. I came to New York for a teaching seminar. I taught crypt-zoology at Oxford. Looking now at my vocation and the situation I find myself in, I find the study of previously unidentified species…amusing.

And not a little ironic.

I am under no illusion that I will not see my homeland again. I have resigned myself to the fact. That is not what hurts me. The fact that I will not see my wife and son again burns me to my very core. I hope, if hope is a strong enough word, that they died quickly, that they didn't suffer. I will continue to love them with all my heart until my last breath. Rather that than the alternative.

Anything but that. I don't think that I could bear to think of them walking around like that.

But again I am getting off the subject that I am here to explain.

Excuse me a moment…

Back.

Sorry about that. I had to make sure that the door was still secure. I must have checked it a dozen times already but there is always a chance that one of them could force the lock and in these dark days a locked, secure barrier between them and you is as important as a loaded weapon.

I am okay for provisions; I have enough food and water to last me a week, maybe more if managed properly. I have spare lights for the flash light ( I try not to think about being without light…again….and my mind will not accept the situation ). That is the good news.

I also found a revolver, but it only has one shell left.

That is the bad.

I think that I could put the barrel under my chin and pull the trigger if the choice ever came to it.

I am secure where I am for the moment, but I know that there is no way that I can leave. If they decide that they want me as a meal, if they swarm the apartment en-mass, then I am as they say, royally screwed.

When I first arrived I thought that if push came to shove ( you'll have to pardon the expression ) then I could jump from one of the many windows facing the street. I dismissed the notion pretty damn fast though when I realized I was five floors up. If by some miracle I survived the drop to the concrete then there would be a definite possibility that something would be broken, or worse. Being paralysed in the middle of a feeding frenzy would not be high on my list of how to leave this world.

So basically this is why I am here writing this journal; there is nothing else to do and it seems like a good idea at the time. I looked down into the street about an hour ago but the sight was so depressing and frightening that I haven't bothered since.

Luckily the apartment that I find myself in was empty when I arrived and, judging by the looks of the place, no-one has been here for a long time.

I have just taken stock of my situation; locked door, loaded ( with one round ) weapon and food when I happened across the pen and thick block of writing paper on the living-room table.

So, dear reader, this is where we find ourselves. Just the two of us and lots of paper just waiting to be filled. As to how I came to be here with a bag full of food and a gun with only one bullet in it, well, that will take a little longer in the telling. But if you are willing to hear me out, and I have enough time, then it will get told.

So pull up a chair and check that the door is secure at your back and I will begin.

I, like you I suppose, remember a different time, a different place. A different world where everything was still normal.

Well, as normal as any day could be in New York in the middle of July…

2: Day .1.

.Day – 1.

 

'Get out of the way you bloody dick-head!'

I jumped in the back seat of the taxi, the cursing of the driver breaking into the pleasant doze that I had found myself in.

The large bearded man was yelling at the driver of the car in front of him, his language going from English to Arabic and back again at an amazing rate.

The driver of the other vehicle just sat there impassively, a newspaper propped on his knees.

My irate driver swore some more, a mixture of the two tongues and then the whole car shot through a small gap that presented itself over in the next lane with a screeching of tyre rubber.

The left corner of the car brushed past the fender of an expensive looking sports car and surged into the space.

The car moved…

Ten yards.

Then we stopped again.

The heat was getting unbearable on the inside of the cab and I reached across to wind down the barrier that separated me from the fresh air of the outside world.

The handle came off in my hand on the first turn.

I tried to make the most of it and sat back in my seat. I closed my eyes and tried to recapture the dream that I had been having before I had been so rudely awakened.

Not a damn chance.

Over the honking of horns I could hear the tirade of insults start up from the front once again.

Between that and the heat…and the eighteen hour flight I had had more than enough.

The door opened and I stepped out into the road pulling my suitcase out with me. The driver stopped insulting the people around him long enough to accept the money that I handed over and then promptly turned the sign back on that rested on his roof.

I took a chance that the traffic would not move around me and took a look around.

The cars were bumper to bumper, wall to wall metal, every exposed inch would be hot to the touch after just sitting here baking in the July heat.

I managed to find my way through the maze of steel to the pavement with a minimum of stress and looked once more to get my bearings.

I looked left and right to see more motor misery and came to one inescapable fact…

I was lost.

People were passing by so close that it seemed almost like swimming through a sea of bodies. I was bumped and spun a couple of times and almost lost the grip on my suitcase but, somehow, I managed to hold on to it. It had been a present from my wife and I was damned if I was going to let it go without a fight.

There came the sound of a siren in the distance; a police siren. If you have been in any major city in the US then you can guarantee you will hear a siren of some description at most times of the day.

At night it seemed to be worse for some reason.

Maybe that was when all the crazies came out.

It took me almost two hours of aimless wondering to find the hotel, only to discover that I had walked past it twice and had gone around in a big circle.

The door opened as I approached and I stepped into a large lobby that smelled of freshly cut flowers and the satisfying hum of air conditioning.

Although the noise from outside had not been cut off entirely it had abated a lot. The change was a very welcome change.

I spotted the centre desk and made my way towards it, waiting patiently behind another guest that was checking out.

My turn came quickly and I shuffled my case along the floor to the foot of the desk with my foot.

'Can I help you…sir?'

The 'boy' behind the counter couldn't have been more than nineteen at the outside but, like most New Yorkers, held himself with a haughty indifference when it came to others. I let it slide. It was too warm and I was just too damn tired to start an argument with someone that I had just met.

Maybe later.

'I'm here for the seminar…the names Richards.'

'Ah yes…the Englishman.'

I looked at him and he looked straight back. It may have just been my imagination but I was sure that he had made the word seem almost…dirty. Something that you stepped in.

At least, that was the way that it seemed to me at the time.

He passed the paperwork across the counter top and I signed without another word. The sooner that I was in my room the better. He took the papers and the pen and handed me my room card.

After pressing a button on the wooden top he addressed the even-younger bell-boy that appeared.

'Take Mr. Richards to 217.'

No 'welcome to the hotel', no 'please enjoy your stay', nothing.

I threw him my best, most polite of smiles, the one that I had especially reserved for idiots and ass-holes and moved off towards the bank of elevators.

It didn't take that long to get to the room and for that at least I was glad. I tipped the kid a ten, telling him that I was not to be disturbed for the rest of the day, and closed the door as soon as he had left. Throwing the locks and the dead bolt too I dropped onto the large comfortable looking bed that dominated the fair-size room.

I was asleep in the next five minutes.

So tired was both my mind and body I failed to hear the sirens, both police and emergency, as they sped below my window.

3: Day .2.

.Day – 2.

 

I awoke refreshed and hungry, the pressured of that first day if not forgotten then at least contained in the back of my mind.

Looking at the night stand I saw that the time was just after nine. I had a few hours to kill till I had to get to where I needed to be.

After getting up and forcing my body into the shower I turned on the television to hear the news.

I sat there in my bathrobe and watched, and listened, to the worst news stories that the world had to offer…

I sat and watched as fresh-faced young soldiers disembarked from transport planes as they sat on foreign runways. Going to fight for their country.

Going to die for their country.

I saw the pinched faces and bloated stomachs of starving children in third-world countries along with the promises of world leaders to again save all of them.

I stopped channel hopping as I came across the story of an attack on a government laboratory. The people responsible had broken in, destroyed equipment and then stolen a truck with a corrosive cargo and fled the scene.

They had crashed after being pursued.

People had died and others had been seriously injured. The men responsible had gotten away.

The police were at the crash site. The news reporter was just coming on the screen with an update…

'And here at the St. Jude street complex, police have just informed us that the perpetrators of this most shocking of incidents may still be inside. At the moment they have adopted a wait-and-watch approach, but something is going to have to be done soon. What has been described as gunshots have been heard from within. Police Swat teams have been placed on alert status and the word has only to be given.

This is Kay Newsom for CNN.'

I turned off the set unwilling to watch any-more. After getting dressed I went downstairs to see if I could scrounge up a bit of breakfast. I knew that it was probably pushing it but that still didn't change the fact that I was hungry.

As I stepped from the elevator something struck me as unusual.

Outside the front doors there seemed to be less traffic than there had been the day before. Don't get me wrong, there were still cars and vans there, there just seemed less of them for the time of day. Not giving it a further thought I shrugged my shoulders and made my way to the restaurant.

There were not that many people inside as I had expected. I made my way to a window seat and sat down alone.

As I sat there waiting for someone to take my order I heard the sound of coughing coming from behind the closed door to the kitchen. The sound was raw and painful sounding.

I was glad that it wasn't me, whoever it was sounded like they were on their last legs.

I ordered a full English and smiled lightly when I had to explain what black pudding was. The waiter that took the order turned green; it had been his first day and he had never known what went into it.

I'll say this for the American people…some of them may have looked down their noses at the rest of the world, they may have thought they were better than the rest of us. But that morning, that breakfast, was the best that I have ever eaten, and probably will be the best that I ever will eat.

(Coincidently, that was the last cooked meal that I ate. It was shortly after that time that the brown stuff headed fan-ward and at some speed).

After polishing off the meal I decided to go for a walk, it had been a beautiful day. Upon reflection I should have stayed at the hotel.

I had been in the city only once before. My honeymoon.

That had been the happiest time of my life.

Of coarse, that had been before the numerous lawyers and letters. Now it was all gone.

When we had been here we had come across a small family run bakers nearby.

A friendly place where I could get a warm smile served with a fresh bagel and coffee.

I stood and paid my bill. I whistled as I walked out the door towards the bakery.

As I walked along the pavement, lost deeply in my thoughts, a police car rocketed past closely followed by another. Then two ambulances.

I found myself wondering where they were headed.

I found my answer as I rounded the next corner.

The two ambulances were parked side by side in front of the small two-storey building. Their rear doors open wide.

I walked over to where a crowd of onlookers had gathered and waited with them behind the police tape that had been strung across the intersection.

That was when the first body was bought out.

The bakery had been run by a fat, jolly man named Jerry Splenda (Yeah, I thought it was a cool name too) along with his wife Laura and his little girl Milly. The last time that Had been here mother and baby had not long been back from the hospital. The mother had been all smiles, the baby all toothless grins and drool.

That had been then.

The first stretcher was placed in the back of the emergency vehicle. Straps holding the remains to the top of it. It was hard to tell who it was underneath; the shape was all wrong and the sheet was no longer white. From the time it took the paramedics to get it from the door to the ambulance, the sheet had gone from a crisp whiteness to a patchwork of white and crimson.

One thing was certain though, it was too big to have been a child.

The second body was brought out into the sunshine but this one wasn't on a stretcher…it was in a body bag. The two men that held either end had white faces drained of colour. They had that look that only soldiers in war had ever worn; The faraway look that implies they had seen things that no living person should see.

They were both in shock.

They put the remains on the floor and went to get another stretcher.

While they were away a large red, almost black, stain started to spread out underneath the bag. The pool grew and started to creep across the cracked, warm concrete.

The two men came back and again grabbed either end of the bag. It made wet sucking sounds as it came unstuck from the floor. The blood already going tacky in the heat and sticking it to the floor.

Next came two police officers, one leading the other. He had a towel wrapped around his forearm, this also starting to stain with his blood. His arm was held up, his free hand clamped to his wound trying to stop the trickle of red as it crept down his arm over his elbow.

As they passed close by I caught parts of their whispered conversation.

'I shot him man! I shot him five damn times! He was dead, he had to be!'

The other cop lowered his voice even lower and steered his colleague away from the crowd.

The medical examiner followed the men into the sunlight. He took a deep breath, swallowed and promptly threw up all over his shoes.

Now, I don't know about you, but when a man like that, a man who spends his days with the dead, and inside the dead, throws up his breakfast, you should be worried.

The last thing to come out was the thing that I had been dreading; the one thing that I didn't want to see. But I found that I couldn't move. Felt like I had to look.

The crowd seemed to flow forwards as it was brought out, their interest in death peaked. The figure was small even for a girl of seven years of age. It was almost as if all the pieces weren't there.

That was the best description that I had at the time.

Several straps held the body down so it wouldn't fall. There was a great deal of blood. I wasn't aware that a body could hold that much blood.

As the small procession neared the open doors of the second ambulance a small pink arm slid out from underneath the cover.

I turned away as the medics tucked it back under.

I started to walk back to the hotel, the image that I seen burned into my mind.

The small arm ending in a limp hand, the small pink watch hanging from the wrist. The hand itself clenched claw-like in death. The remaining three fingers sticking out at wrong angles. The spaces where the others should have been looking as if they had been savaged by a wild animal.

The hand and arm looked…chewed.

I suddenly wasn't that hungry any-more.

As I walked back the way I had come I heard the sound of more sirens in the distance. There seemed to be more happening in the city than anyone could know about.

I was as sure of that as I had been of anything in my life.

4: Day .3.

.Day – 3.

 

I woke at five am.

I hadn't slept well, fitfully really.

I couldn't get the scenes that I had witnessed from my mind.

Sitting up I reached for the remote and turned on the television.

The CNN news feed was still on and the situation had looked like it was going to resolve itself.

Fully armed swat teams had been on high alert all day. The cameras were rolling when the first shots had been heard. At first the news woman had ducked, thinking that they had been directed in her general direction.

It was only when the screaming had started; clear and load through the camera misc that they had finally made their move on the complex.

Everyone waited and waited.

The anticipation almost palpable. I sat in stunned silence as one of the sound men picked up what was said near the police command vehicle…

'This is … team! We are under attack, repeat, we are taking fire!'

The message was punctuated by the high staccato whine of weapons on full automatic. The sound of gunfire lasted a few moments before the team leaders voice came on once more.

Jesus, they got Walker! They're killing him … seem to be eating him. What the …!'

There was another burst of gunfire, incredibly load, almost on top of the speaker and then with a high pitched squeal the voice cut off.

Everything went deathly quiet. The absence of noise was somehow even worse than the action that had preceded it.

The police realized at this point that the message had aired all across America and they tried desperately, in vain, to gloss over the whole thing. Before they could even begin to get into their spin a window shattered, breaking the silence. The camera panned up almost seven floors to where the sound had come from and was just in time to catch sight of a falling object as it plummeted towards the ground. It followed it all the way down and myself and several million viewers were treated to the sight of a body hitting the solid concrete road at speed. The head hitting the road split like an over ripe watermelon leaking its vital fluids onto the ground, spattering those nearby with gore and brain matter.

Since it was all live there wasn't a damn thing that anyone could do until it was way too late.

The signal was pulled from some source and a message appeared on screen …

Normal service will be resumed shortly. Please stay tuned.

But it was too late, the damage had already been done, countless people across the globe had seen what I had only moments before.

I waited fifteen minutes until the broadcast came back on again.

The fresh-faced reporter was no longer so 'fresh-faced', in fact she looked as though she had lost her lunch only moments ago.

There were ambulances and police cars everywhere their lights illuminating large areas of the surrounding area with ghostly blues and reds. Body bags littered the space between the front of the building and the closest vehicles. There seemed to be a rapidly erected barricade against the main entrance, officers in body armour and rifles manning it.

The reporter was saying something about waste and disaster but I was hardly listening. I was looking at the destruction that was evident all around her. The camera panned back in time to see her give a small disbelieving shake of her head and the she signed off, the faces of stern senior officers at her back.

I sat there stunned and in shock.

Looking at the remote that I had all but forgotten about I started to flick through the channels trying to find anything to take my mind off the early morning news.

Nothing but more bad news on all the other channels.

There had been reports of attacks from various areas of the city; parents attacking children, friends fighting each other.

The whole city seemed to be dissolving into chaos before my eyes. But the authorities had everything under control.

Yeah, right.

I dived for the phone and yanked the receiver from the cradle. Punching the one key I dialled down to reception.

'New York international please.'

The phone was picked up on the other end.

'I'd like your earliest flight to London please.'

The voice on the other end was both apologetic and polite at the same time.

'I'm sorry sir it's been mad around here today, could you please hold a moment.

I held the phone in one hand and pulled my case towards me with my other. Flipping open the lid I started to throw what few things I had taken out back inside.. The female voice was back in a few minutes.

I'm sorry sir, all flights have been cancelled I'm not sure what to tell you. There … I'm sorry there seems to be some sort of commotion. I'll be …'

The line went dead.

I held the phone away from my head, a look of confusion on my face that would any other time probably look comical. Dialling the lobby again I asked to be put back in contact having just lost my line.

The phone went dead here as well.

What the hell?

I put the handset down and walked to the door of my room. I opened it and put my head out into the corridor.

The first thing I noticed were the noises; someone to the left of me was crying, loud enough that I could hear them through a locked door. At the other end of the hall someone was arguing. Whether with someone or themselves I never found out.

Stepping out into the hallway I closed the door and started in the direction of the elevators. As I reached for the call button the doors opened and a man rushed out brushing past me as he went past.

I noticed the torn shirt and dried blood and then he was gone down the hallway and around a corner. I stepped into the car and rode it down to the entrance. I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I failed to notice the doors had opened on the ground floor. The first thing that I saw where about fifteen people clustered around the reception desk.

They were all angry and heated, the object of their fury obvious.

The young man who had been so condescending to me the other day was crouched behind the desk, trying to make himself as small as he could.

I started to walk towards the group as he stood, a look of resignation on his face.

He saw me and I stared back not knowing what to do.

He bolted.

He ran out the front doors and into the street.

He was running flat out, arms waving at his sides, head down.

He never saw the ambulance as it bore down on him.

We all heard the screech of brakes as the bonnet caught him and threw his body under the wheels.

We all saw his face as he disappeared under the vehicle. His features a mask of pain and disbelief.

The ambulance dragged his body underneath it ten feet before it lifted into the air as its tires bounced over the unfortunate boy, blood spraying in an arc that patterned the lower half of the doors red.

Everything became still and quiet.

A woman in the crowd screamed and her husband reached forwards to comfort her.

I turned and headed back to my room. Content to wait for the authorities to turn up. I was sure they would be here soon.

Everything would be okay.

5: Day .4.

.Day – 4.

 

I stay in my hotel room looking at the television screen.

The news channels had gone off the air at midnight.

All the channels that were still working, and there were only a small number, all showed the same thing…

 

...PLEASE STAY UNED TO THIS CHANNEL. AN ANNOUNCEMENT WILL FOLLOW SHORTLY...

 

A watched for a few more hours but nothing came back on the air. Whatever the message had been, if there ever was one in the first place, I must have missed it.

When I did finally drift off my sleep was fitful. I dreamt of screaming and far away explosions. Gunshots and the sound of metal on metal as if cars were involved in some kind of demolition derby just the other side of my window.

When I woke the sun was just starting to lighten the horizon, the dim early morning sunlight just starting to creep up the drawn curtains.

I thought that I heard distant gunshots but it may just have been my imagination.

I sat up and put my head in my hands.

That was when I noticed something strange.

There were no more sirens. In fact there was an absence of any noise.

Very strange.

I had to go and see for myself.

Leaving my bag on the bed I slowly walked to the door and pressed my ear against the wood. There was nothing, or at least nothing that I could hear.

I threw the locks and as quiet as I could stepped out into the hall again.

At first glance everything seemed normal.

The corridor stretched away to the right, the doors that way locked and secure. I looked the other way and could just make out an open door about twenty yards from where I was.

Walking slowly towards the door I had a sudden urge to call out. To see if there was anyone apart from myself nearby. I managed to stop myself just as I was opening my mouth.

I reached the door and slowly pushed it open.

The room was a shambles; the bed overturned and the pictures that had hung on the walls torn and shredded. Looking further I saw that the bathroom door was slightly ajar and there was what looked like a shadow on the other side, in the room itself.

Again I had to stop myself from calling out. Every fibre of my being screamed out something was seriously wrong, but at the time I had no idea what it might be.

I reached the door and reached out a hand to open it.

That was when I heard the shadow on the other side. Or rather, I heard what it was doing.

When I had been younger my parents had taken me to the zoo near where I had lived. The favourite animals of mine were the big cats. When we had arrived they were just feeding them. Large bloody joints of raw meat. the sounds that they had made were the same as I heard coming from the other side of that door.

Bone-crunching, flesh-ripping. Chewing.

It was as I stood there with my arm held out that I realized something; there was not a force on the planet that would get me in that room. Without lowering my arm I started to slowly back away, trying to make as little sound as was humanly possible.

Never taking my attention from the door I failed to see the low table behind my knees.

I folded at the knees and fell backwards landing in a heap flat on my ass. There was a change in the shadows shape as it slowly rose to its feet and turned in my direction.

I was rooted to the spot, not able to move.

The bathroom door swung inwards.

The first thing I saw was a hand; the nails cracked and split where they held the edge of the wood. One whole finger was missing, another twisted at an impossible angle. The moving door revealed more of the person there.

The flesh was an unhealthy looking yellow. Pus-filled blisters marched across the back of the hand and over the wrist. They continued up the arm and I saw that just above them there was a raw and ragged looking wound.

I knew who this had to be.

The man that I had seen just a day before stepped out from the now open doorway. Someone screamed, and I realized that it was me.

The thing that stepped into that room was nowhere near human. It was an abomination.

The head turned in my direction, the eyes white and lifeless, dead yet still seeing. It dropped the hand and forearm that it had been gnawing on and raised its arms to me. It moaned deep in its throat. It was this sound, not the looks of the creature that snapped me from my paralysis.

I scrambled to my feet and ran from the room. So scared was I that I ran straight past my own room and into the first stairway that I came across.

Without slowing down, much, I literally threw myself down the stairs, thinking back I suppose I was lucky not to take a header and break an arm or a leg, or worse yet, my neck.

I didn't stop until I reached the lobby. Then I did stop, suddenly.

The place was a charnel house, the floor awash with blood and offal. I put my hand over my mouth and nose and tried my best not to breath too deeply. I could feel the bile rising in my gullet. Looking at the front doors I started to walk stepping as carefully as I could to avoid falling into the human debris that lay all around. I slipped a couple of times but managed to keep myself on my feet. I think that if I had fallen I may have started screaming and not stopped. I made it to the doors and gratefully stepped through. Closing my eyes I tilted my head to the sky and removed my hand from my face. I took a deep breath.

Once, twice.

I almost threw up from the stench there and then.

My eyes shot open and I tried to take in the carnage that I saw.

It must have happened while I sat and slept in my room. The whole city fell apart at the seams as I lay in my bed.

From where I stood I could see columns of dense black smoke lifting hundreds of feet into the air. Closer there were signs that there had been intense fighting in the streets; Splashes of drying blood covered the side walks and the fronts of buildings. Cars had collided with one-another forming a mad man's vision of steel sculpture. Some of the unfortunate drivers were still visible inside some of them.

I took all this in as I stood there outside the hotel. Something had happened here and it had been far from good. It had not taken an age to destroy a major city, just mere days. I was as sure as I could be that what I saw on that street was just the start of something larger. If this could happen here, what would happen once it got out into the world proper.

I dropped to my knees and wept.

6: Day .5.

.Day – 5.

 

I spent that night cold and shivering, hiding in the first building that I came across that looked even half-way defend-able.

It was a distribution centre of some kind. Large, looming machinery dotted every spare inch of floor space. Luckily the doors had been wide open before I hastily barricaded them against the night. I had only seen a few of the unfortunate individuals about, but they were fairly well spaced out and easy to avoid. I still, at that point, had no idea about what was happening, but was determined to stay away from them to the best of my abilities.

I had to find some kind of weapon to defend myself.

I couldn't go back to the hotel, it was way too risky. I consider myself lucky to have gotten out of there in the first place. It had also been a stroke of good fortune to have found myself alone on the street.

The less time I spent out on the roads was the only thing that was going to keep me alive long enough to make it out of the situation that I found myself in.

I knew one thing.

At school I had been a huge fan of sayings and the meaning of sayings. The one that instantly came to mind was this…

If you discount all possibilities, then whatever is left, however unlikely, must be the truth.

The truth of the matter was this; that, for some reason, people were turning against there fellow man and attacking them and eating the flesh of their victims. Most if not all had shown signs of being attacked themselves. They roamed in singles and in groups and attacked anything that moved. But strangely, not each other.

I had watched horror films in my youth and knew that they would be called zombies.

Yeah, pretty messed-up I know.

From what I had seen in my limited experiences the people, if that was what they still were, only had the basics; operating on motor function and instinct. I hadn't seen any run or even attempt to run. They seemed almost unaware of their surroundings. They didn't seem that strong or co-ordinated, but I was sure that even a small group would overwhelm an individual.

Namely me.

The best way would be to try and avoid all contact. (Yeah, I know, here I am five floors up surrounded by a sea of infected. So much for forward planning.)

They didn't use weapons, and that was both good and bad. Good because they couldn't use them against me, bad because there was no way to retrieve one if I managed to overpower one of them. All of that was pretty irrelevant anyway, I had no idea how to destroy one of them or even if they could be destroyed.

The word zombie kept creeping into my mind and it was all I could do to stop fro laughing out loud.

In every one of the movies the only sure way to stop one of the undead was to destroy the brain; destroy that and the body would follow.

Since I had no ranged weapon to hand and there was nothing in the world that would get me that close so as to attack them up close, then the only real option was to hide and avoid.

Again, a good idea in theory.

Since the last census several years ago, the latest estimate put the population of the city at somewhere around ten million people. Doing some very rough math in my head and taking into account the bodies that would be too badly damaged to come back, and also the fact that someone must have escaped, that still put me in the minority.

That put me somewhere in the region of hopelessly outnumbered, and truly screwed.

Some choice.

I was never an optimistic man at the best of times, but this kind of settled the argument. I was sure that if I didn't find a way out of the city the chances of survival would be lower that zero. As these thought were charging through my head I scoured my surroundings for anything useful that I could use. I happened across a small canteen, mercifully empty of dead bodies. Chairs had been overturned and a table lay on its side against the far wall.

I saw that the snack machines were still full and made my way over to them. Lifting my foot a put it through the glass front and candy bars tumbled to the ground. I snatched two off the floor and almost sucked them from the wrappers. I put everything else from the machine on one of the tables. In the draws near the sink I found several knives. I choose the longest, sharpest one and put it with the food. After smashing the other machines in the room I took stock of what I had.

There was enough junk food and bottled water to make sure I would be okay as I made my way out of the city.

IF I could find a way out the city.

While looking for something to carry it all in I found a small back-pack. Everything went in along with the torch that was already there in the bag. I cut a slit in the top of the bag and placed the knife in blade first, just in case I needed it in a hurry.

At this point I realized that I had to keep moving; staying too long in one place would ultimately lead to something finding me. Apart from the knife that I had found, I still had no way of effectively fighting them off.

Time to go.

I was going to wait for dark.

The plan being that if I couldn't see them, then they couldn't see me.

There were a few hairy moment when I nearly walked into one of them out on the streets. I realized that without street light to see by I was as blind as they were.

Maybe not that good of an idea. I decided to leave while I still had the nerve to go.

Killed my first zombie.

Up until that point I hadn't killed anything in my life. When I had been younger I used to let bugs that came into the house go. You shouldn't have to kill anything to feel good.

But this had been different.

There was really no choice.

I was just turning into a side street when it happened.

I had just seen a small group of them exiting a shop front and ducked into the nearby ally. As soon as I entered the shadowed recess I knew that I was not alone.

The thing lunged out of the shadows and reached its rotten hands for my throat.

Before I had a chance to do anything we had both fallen struggling to the floor. Worse still the fall had put us in plain sight back on the main road. The others from the other side of the street saw us and started to move in our direction. By my quick reckoning they were two minutes away, but I had more pressing concerns then them.

The creature that had entangled itself with me opened its mouth and darted its head forwards. The teeth stopped an inch from my throat, the jaws coming together with the sound of a bear trap. The force of the bite so strong it knocked out a couple of teeth.

The things on the street were ninety seconds away.

I had to do something, and do it damn fast.

The pack that I wore dug into my back, I heard a bottle of water explode inside, the wetness spreading out underneath me. I felt something hard dig into my ribs.

The knife, of course.

I had to let go of one of its wrists to lift my hand to the handle. The hand that I let go immediately applied more pressure to my already bruised throat. I grasped the smooth wooden handle and pulled it from the bag.

The group was barely a minute away now.

With some twisting and a little effort I managed to put the point under its chin.

I pushed.

The blade slid through the dead flesh. I pushed harder and saw the blade as it entered the cave of it mouth. The blade seemed to get wider as it thrust upwards. It met resistance and I pushed with the last of my fading strength. It punched through the top of its skull and into the air. Bits of scalp and grey matter clung to the length of steel.

I risked a glance at the approaching group and my breath caught in my lungs. They were almost on top of me. I put my hands underneath the twitching body and rolled it off me. I tried to pull the knife free but it was stuck fast in the corpses skull. I had no choice I had to leave it where it was.

The nearest dead figure reached out and I felt its fingertips brush against the fabric of my shirt. I jumped to my feet, all bruises and injuries forgotten and ran as fast as I could down the alleyway.

I didn't know where I was going, I just knew that anywhere had to be better than there.

As I flew around the first corner I almost ran into half a dozen coming the other way.

Terrific.

I back the way I had come, just out of sight.

Zombies ahead of me and zombies to the rear.

Couldn't go forwards, no way I was going back.

I resigned myself to a long, very painful death. I looked to the heavens for inspiration. Someone must have still liked me.

There, just above my head was the lowest rung of a fire escape.

If my old school gym teacher could have seen me he would have been proud. I hunkered down and jumped, catching the rung at the first attempt. I shimmied up the rest of the short metal ladder like a monkey up a tree. When I reached the top I threw myself on the floor. I peered through the lattice into the narrow space below.

I didn't have to wait for long.

The two groups of dead met underneath where I lay almost at the same time. There seemed to be a moments hesitation as they turned this way and that trying to find their prey. At one point one of them lifted its face upwards and I could have sworn that it looked me in the eye. I froze, not even daring to breath in case they heard me.

After a couple of minutes they started to amble away, two small groups now a larger body of figures.

I stay where I was for a few more minutes then slowly sat up.

I took a look around my, for now at least, new home. The landing I was on was, as far as I could see, the only one on this side of the building. There was no window nearby and for that at least I was glad. I was as secure as I could possibly be for a short time.

I put my back to the wall and closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths.

This was as good a place to make camp for the night.

7: Day .6.

.Day – 6.

 

I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping nearby.

I rose sluggishly to my feet and looked over the railings.

About twenty feet away from me there was a large tree, oak I think, and it was in one of the branches of this tree there was a nest.

A mother finch was feeding her young. A small morsel dangling from its mouth, hanging over the open beak of one of her young.

As I watched the small piece of whatever disappeared into the chicks mouth. I felt a smile start on my face. Even in the middle of all this chaos, all this…death, life still found a way to eke out an existence. I watched as the mother bird bent low into the nest to get another scrap from the floor of the small twigs and dirt construction.

Before the scrap disappeared altogether I was sure that I saw a nail on the end of it. Then it was gone and another chick took the firsts place to be fed.

I turned away from the sight.

Time to go.

I gathered the supplies that I had left (the knife having gone, I tried not to think too hard on its loss), and craned my neck over the railings to see if there were any of the creatures in the alley below. Not seeing nay I slowly, carefully climbed down the rungs of the ladder and dropped as quietly as I could to the floor.

I stood and strained every sense that I had. I stood there almost five minutes before I was sure there was nothing around. I couldn't put it off any longer, I had to make a move.

I knew where I was now and knew that there was a major bridge nearby. Deciding that would be my best bet out of the city I decided to make a try for it.

Setting off I tried to look in all directions at once, not an easy task.

I made it as far as a few blocks without being seen before I realized there was no way that I was going to make it as far as the bridge. An old saying sprang to mind, something about the fires of hell and snowballs.

As I walked around the corner of the side street I was in I realized why I wouldn't make it. I had actually gone about ten feet into the street before I realized the danger that I found myself in.

I dived back into the next closest alley and put my back against the wall, trying desperately to forget the image that was seared into my brain.

The road was packed with the things. They stood shoulder to shoulder swaying gently from side to side as if in a light breeze. I didn't get an accurate count but there had to be thousands of them out there.

I started to softly bang my head against the rough brick behind me trying to think of another way to go. Going around them would take too long, and there was no way that I could make a run for it. One slip, one trip and it would all end in the middle of that street. Another happy meal for the dead that waited for me.

It was only a matter of time before one or more of them found there way to my hiding place. I didn't relish the idea of being caught in this narrow space without a weapon. I had to go back the way I had come and find another route.

Maybe I could get back to my perch and find a way into the building or even unto the roof.

I backed down the shadowed alley, keeping my eyes on the entrance to the street.

I tripped over my own feet and fell backwards, reaching out flailing hands for some kind of purchase.

It was all I could do to stop from screaming as my palm came down on something cold and spongy.

Snatching my hand back I jammed the other as far into my mouth as I could, trying to hold back the shout that was coming.

Knowing that there was no way I could carry on without looking I turned my head and looked at what was there.

The body, what was left of it, sat propped against the wall. The tattered remains of a police uniform clung to the corpse. There was a large gaping hole in the abdomen, a dry blood trail leading into the street. Everything from the cops mouth and up was spread in a dried smear behind him. What looked like a large patch of hair stuck to the wall held there by a grey jelly-like substance.

I looked quickly away.

The arm that I had touched lay several feet away, the palm up and open, dead for some time. The fingerless hand pointed skywards. (I knew where the bird had been getting its food).

I got back to my feet and turned to walk off in the direction that I had been headed.

That was when I saw it.

Half hidden under some split rubbish bags the gun looked huge and fearsome.

It must have flown from the cops fingers as he had pulled the trigger, the force of the shot throwing the weapon to where it now rested.

I reached out with trembling fingers and touched the cool wood of the grip. I was as sure as I had ever been that it would vanish as soon as I touched it. It didn't.

My palm slid across the smooth wooden surface. I closed my hand and lifted it into the air bringing it over to where I was. All thoughts of the creatures nearby disappeared as my mind grasped the concept of the weapon in my hand.

I wondered, not for the first time, if I had enough courage to do what the cop had done in those final seconds of his life.

Hugging the gun to my chest, I turned and ran.

I realized that I was sobbing quietly.

I made it back to the fire escape and reached up to pull myself to the floor above. As I hauled my body up the gun slid from my grasp and hit the concrete under my feet.

It went off.

The report of the gunshot was deafening in the confines of the narrow, confined space. I let go of the smooth metal under my hands and dropped back to the ground not wanting to lose the only weapon of worth that I had come across, and froze as the echo of the shot cleared and the unmistakable groan started close by.

One of the creatures appeared around the corner and stumbled in my direction as far away from the gun as I was.

What happened next undoubtedly save my life.

The creature staggered my way, the gun between the two of us. It was in a bad way, time and its worsening condition had not been kind to it. There was a large slit in its belly and from this rent a length of its intestines swung free. As it swung at me the organ got caught around its legs and tripped it. It went down face first, hard. Its nose popped like a balloon and teeth flew from its mouth clinking across the concrete with the same sound as dice made. Its jaw shattered and broke, skewing off at an impossible angle. The fall must have been worse than I thought because the creature stayed down, its body still on the floor.

I crept forward and gingerly grabbed the gun, moving slightly quicker as I saw a thick stream of blood appear from underneath the corpse.

As I stood it gave a low groan and started to move. I ran.

I didn't stop until I was out of breath. By that time I had travelled some distance and there was one thing that I was certain of; I was hopelessly lost again.

I spent most of the day hiding and running, staying as far as I possibly could from everything.

It was sheer luck that I ran across a place to hole up in. The warehouse was one floor, long ago deserted. The good thing was it was dry and warm. Not having the option of being too choosy I blocked the way I came in with anything that I could find and did a quick scout to make sure there were no open doors.

I found an office off the main floor and pushed the desk up against the door. I sat with my back to the door and made myself as comfortable as I could.

As I waited for the night I checked the gun that I had.

Now, being a teacher, and being from England, I knew all about guns. What they did, how they were used. In theory anyway. I had never held one before today, had never had cause to fire one.

The stock was, I assume, walnut (all guns in the movie's were) and was surprisingly cool to the touch. The metal was steel slightly bluish. The thing felt enormous and heavy in my hands. You could feel the sense of security and, yes I suppose, power it gave.

After several attempts at opening the chambers I happened across the release. The cylinder swung out sideways and, because I was holding the weapon sideways, the shells hit the carpet with six muffled thuds.

So much for me playing soldier boy, I was more likely to shoot myself than anything else.

I bent down for the bullets and lined them up in front of me. Out of the six shells, four had been used. (One had been the accidental discharge in the alley, one for the dead officer, the others … who knew.)

The empty loads seemed to mock me. Their lethal loads gone. I replaced the two live rounds and clicked the cylinder back into place, making sure that the hammer would fall on one of them and not empty air.

After a small meal of water and a couple of candy bars I settled down for the night.

I had been just dozing off when I heard what I thought were gentle sobs coming from somewhere from behind me.

I wasn't sure what it had been at first and held my breath trying to get a proper fix on it.

There it was again, directly behind me. But that would mean, whoever it was, would be in the alleyway, in the deepening dark.

I couldn't ignore it.

I stood and silently slid the door up in its frame. At first I didn't see anything. Then I looked down.

Directly below me there were several trash bins throwing growing shadows in the gloom. Several large trash bags had split, their contents spilling out into the alley. I tilted my head more to the side and found myself looking down at the top of some-ones head. The narrow shoulders shook slightly with each sob and I knew instinctively that they were still alive.

There was no way that I could attract their attention without scaring them half to death, but I had to try.

'Hello?'

The figure below me screamed and pushed itself from the wall. They turned in the middle of the small space and I found myself staring into the shell-shocked, terrified eyes of a teenage girl, no more than sixteen.

I stared at her and she stared right back, neither of us daring to make the next move.

At one time she may have been pretty, probably still was under all that dirt on her face. Her hair was matted and stuck to her face with sweat.

So shocked were we that we failed to hear the sound of shuffling footsteps further down the alley.

I tried another approach and smiled. I'm not sure how fresh I looked but it seemed to have the desired effect. She tilted her head to one side and, with a slight raise of an eyebrow, smiled back. I held out my hand to help her up the wall, palm out.

As she walked towards me it happened.

As I sit here writing this, I still can't believe what I saw.

Or what I ultimately had to do.

She was close to me, almost within reach, when one of those … things lunged out of the shadows. It darted its head forward and its teeth clamped down on the soft flesh of her neck. She never had time to scream. Our fingertips touched as she was pulled away from me.

As the thing held on tightly it twisted its head violently to one side like a dog. The jaws came away from her, a bloody piece of flesh between them. An eruption of arterial blood burst out of the wound. Some of it nearly reached the window I leaned from.

The girl started to sag in the creatures arms. Its hold on her the only thing stopping her from hitting the floor.

As I watched another creature stumbled into view, bending its head, it clamped down on the unfortunate girls midsection. It bit through the cloth of her shirt and bit into the soft meat underneath.

With what must have been an extreme effort of will the girl lifted her gaze and looked into my eyes. I started to shake my head, helpless to do anything to help.

I remembered the gun still clenched in my hand.

I raised it so she could see it, a look of understanding passing between us.

I'm not sure if it was the tears in my eyes or if I actually saw it, but I thought I saw her smile. I think that she knew it was the only thing to do. I managed to control my shaking long enough to aim the gun, even remembering the safety, and pointed it at her. Even me, from that range, couldn't miss.

I didn't.

The explosion was deafening. The force of the shot pushed my arm upwards and swung me back into the room. But I saw what happened.

The bullet flew from the barrel and hit her just above the right eye. The entry wound was small, no bigger than a coin. The exit was something else entirely. It tore through her skull and exploded out the back taking a large chunk of skull and brain with it. The wall behind her was painted a deep crimson, almost black in the fading light.

As the bullet came out the girl it hit the zombie behind it in the shoulder turning it to one side. It didn't go down. The wound not even slowing it, it dropped the mouthful of flesh and darted in for another.

The stink of cordite and blood hung heavy in the air.

I slumped down to the floor and the gun fell from my nerveless fingers, thumping unto the carpet. I put my hands over my eyes and wept like a child, the tears for a dead girl outside my refuge. A girl that I had never known.

I didn't sleep, and there was no-where to go.

The sounds of feeding went on for a long time.

8: Day .7. - The End

.Day – 7.

 

I tried to keep to the shadows as much as I could, staying out of view.

It became a case of run, hide and sleep (when I could).

I had given up trying to find a way out of the city. Several times I had seen huge groups of the things moving out of the city limits, but there were millions more within it.

I didn't have nearly enough ammunition to be waging a war on the dead.

Again I found myself in a warehouse on the outskirts of an industrial area. I know, this was becoming a habit. But, contrary to popular belief, the more space I had, the more options; more places to hide and more exits to choose from. Every movie I had seen had the heroes leaving themselves with one entry and exit.

Big mistake in my opinion.

If used properly space could be your best friend.

After a quick scout of the place, making sure that ALL exits were found and secured for the coming night I tried to make myself as comfortable as I could. I put my ass on the cold, hard floor and my back against the main door that I had entered through giving myself a clear view of the surrounding area in front and around me.

I was dead tired (sorry for the choice of words) and there was no way, after not sleeping a lot the previous night, that I could go on any longer. I felt my eyelids start to close although the sun was still high in the sky.

The next instant I felt myself being nudged from behind as something hammered on the metal behind me.

Instantly awake I dug my heels into the floor and tried to push back, scared that the door would not hold.. The soles of my shoes scrabbled against the smooth concrete. Massive blows rained on the barrier, dust fro the frame falling around me.

Just as they had begun, they ended. I was left panting and gasping for breath, wondering what the hell had just happened. I put my head down and tried to catch a breath.

Reaching to the side I felt for the gun.

It wasn't there.

My eyes frantically searched the area. It was then that I realized something was wrong.

I couldn't see.

After several moments of sheer, heart-pounding panic I realized I had been so tired I had slept the remainder of the day away. In total darkness, not thinking of anything else, I started to group my way blindly forwards desperately sweeping my hands from side to side.

It had to be nearby, it had to be.

I felt as if I had travelled for ages when my hand slid across the smooth grip of the weapon. I must have kicked it across the floor with my foot by accident. I stood up in the darkness grasping the gun to my chest with both hands. Moving this way and that I tried to get my bearings in the large empty space. There were small noises from every direction.

I had no idea were the door I was leaning against was.

No idea where the bag with my food was.

The bag with the light.

One of my most primal fears found me; I was alone in the inky darkness.

As I saw it I had two choices.

I could walk until I found a wall, or I could just sit down and stay where I was until the morning. Neither sounded very appealing, but I had to chance one of them.

Reaching out with my free hand I choice a direction at random and started forwards. Every footstep sounded like thunder as I walked, every breath a bellows. I was sure that there was a countless number of those things creeping up for me in the dark. My mind was playing tricks on me. I was sure that every pair of dead ears in the city could hear me.

My hand touched fabric in the darkness, an unseen shape with weight, and pushed it forward. My other hand swung up and I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened, I had forgotten to take the safety off.

Nothing came out of the darkness to attack me. I reached ahead once more.

After exploring some more I realized that I had almost shot some kind of work clothes, maybe overalls hanging from a hook. I felt a giggle trying to force its way out but stopped myself just in time. I think that if I had started I would not have stopped.

There was no way that I could find my way back in this dark. I sat on the floor and hugged the gun with its one bullet.

The dawn came to find me sitting under the coveralls of, what I assumed by now, to be a dead man.

I stood and looked, figuring where I was.

The door and my bag were where I had left them no more than fifteen feet from where I had stayed the night.

I also saw one end of a door partly hidden by a partition I had not seen on my earlier check. I thought that while I waited I may as well check it out.

I grasped the handle and pushed down and in at the same time. The door opened six inches then was stopped by something on the other side.

Leaving common sense behind I pushed with my shoulder and it opened a further eighteen inches until it was stopped again.

I heard what I took to be a cabinet or something similar scrape against the floor on the other side.

Through the gap I could see a desk and an overturned chair. There was a wall planner of some sort on the wall behind it, wind from the broken window inside gently flapping one loose corner. There was a creak just to the side of the door.

The dead man swung into the gap and lazily twisted there at the end of the flex he had used to end his life. His neck was stretched and twisted at an unnatural angle, the face having gone purple, the blood suffusing the bloated face.

I stepped back a pace when the eyes opened.

I turned and ran as the first moan escaped the dead lips.

Stopping just long enough to grab the bag and throw the locks on the door I ran out into the sunshine. Not caring what may have been just outside my little world I ran out into the street.

As luck would have (and yes, I am aware that I have had my share of luck over the last few days) there were only a few of the creatures about. They were mainly across the road and easy to outrun.

I ran until I could no longer run and went into the first building that I saw; a new-looking complex. I took just the merest of moments to check if there was no-one in the expansive lobby then headed to the stairs. Bursting through the first door I took the stairs three at a time heading up. I stopped when I thought I was far enough up and looked for another place to hole-up.

The first door that presented itself was slightly open and I made my way to it. Not sensing anything inside and just doing a quick scout for anything that may want to eat me, I closed and threw the locks on the door. It was only at that moment that I let the breath that I was holding out content to let my exhausted body collapse to the floor.

 

 

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